


Early Mornings: A Collection

by Diaph



Series: Early Mornings Series [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 307 divergent, Canon Clexa, Commander Lexa, Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, F/F, Falling In Love, Lexa Lives, Pining, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaph/pseuds/Diaph
Summary: Clarke always refuses to get out of bed at Lexa's bequest and every morning is a battle over who will win, usually, the commander forfeits these little fights in favour of a few more minutes in her sky girl's arms... except for the rare occasion when there are more pressing matters to tend to.COMPLETE





	1. Chapter I

The desire to fall back asleep comes as easily as the urge to draw a breath. Clarke's frequent presence in the commander's quarters was an open secret known by the maids and ambassadors alike, though none would dare to speak out of such things after Lexa's triumph against the false prophets that were felled just short of Polis, her strength and throne assured in the process.

"Heda," the young handmaiden nodded at Lexa's wave of dismissal and set the breakfast at the table by the foot of the bed. She dared to glance at the sprawling golden aureate hair and bare shoulder that slipped out from blankets adjacent, quickly averting her eyes.

"You are not required today." Lexa reconfirmed, bleary eyed and yawning.

"Yes, Heda." she quickly retreated and Lexa rolled her eyes in the knowledge of the quiet gossip that would come.

She stretched awake, arching the column of her spine and sighing into the relief that followed each loud pop. The blankets were quickly kicked off, though the amount of blankets she had in her possession decreased every night spent beside Clarke's hoarding shape, hooking her hips around the furs and claiming them one by one.

Next was the trunk. A cumbersome wooden and steel box that came with her station, filled each morning with the most crucial documents for the days and weeks ahead, usually trade agreements and tithe papers. It sat on the table beside a breakfast of fruits and barley water, carried in every morning at the stroke of dawn ready for her appraisal over what was usually a short meal.

Today the trunk was mercifully light with just a few urgent requests for materials from Arkadia, rushing to build their first settlements in time for their first harsh winter. Easily remedied, Lexa mused as she flicked through the list, ripe persimmon between her fingers.

The sound of movement earned her full attention as she set down the papers and turned to face the foot of the bed, leaning against the table, smirking at the sight that greeted her. Clarke's hand emerged from the blankets first, slapping and feeling out the vacant side of the blankets, sighing and earnest in her disappointment.

"Good morning, Wanheda." Lexa cleared her throat and smirked, waiting for it.

"No."

"It's time to get up."

"No."

"Clarke-"

"Sh."

"I don't enjoy these games you play." Lexa lied and feigned annoyance, puffed shoulders and all.

"Here," Clarke patted her side of the bed. "Just five more minutes." she whispered with a croak in her voice, beautiful bleary eyes thinning the commander's resolve.

"Get up."

"I want to cuddle."

Lexa almost flinched in embarrassment, her eyes slipping to the cacophony of early morning preparation that blustered through the hallway outside, praying quietly that none of the maids heard such a slip of the tongue. Sharing quarters was one thing, a small carnal transgression that could be tolerated, but feelings and exchanges of the heart and the tiny kisses pressed to the corners of her eyebrows late at night were enough to topple their stations.

"I want to-"

"Shut up." Lexa hissed at Clarke's giggles, bird mouthed and staring at the door her guards were stationed behind.

"If only they knew you were little spoon." she mouthed and ducked under the covers. Lexa's brows quirked, her eyes flashing in the way they did when something was lost in translation. "I hold you when we sleep." Clarke clarified and ducked beneath the blankets again.

"Is that… your people have a word for such a thing?" Lexa rolled her eyes.

"Yep, just like eating out my-"

"I'm not above banishing you." Lexa stiffened and her nails dug into the table, her chest catching a breath at the memory of how she discovered such unnecessary nomenclature. 

"You don't have a rocket big enough." Clarke laughed and watched her adoringly, "Come lay down next to me. Please." she patted the space.

Lexa muttered to herself at first, chewing and still reluctant as she crawled up the bed, whispering promises that her paramour would make them late for the ambassadors meeting.

"Technically you're at _an_ ambassadors meeting, just maybe not _the_ ambassadors meeting." she slipped hot hands around the bare expanse of Lexa's taut gut.

"Are you happy now?"

"Nope." Clarke sighed and hooked her hip over Lexa's, using the leverage to pull herself up until she straddled the commander with soft thighs slipping down the ripples of her stomach. "Now I am." she teased and dangled her underwear, or rather lack thereof, in front of her.

Lexa opened her mouth and closed it again, hands slipping along the skin of her girlfriend's hips. "If anyone should ask-"

"Trade agreements." Clarke grinded and stole the gasp from Lexa's mouth with a kiss.

The next little battle arrived maybe a month later after a particularly long stretch apart, too long for Lexa's liking. It came off the back of Clarke's return to Arkadia for what felt like months but was in fact three weeks precisely. With curled fingers, nibbling teeth and warm hands taking all of her favourite parts that she missed terribly, Lexa almost gloated in the short sharp shakes of her lover's exhausted hips and gave her reminder after reminder of why she shouldn't leave for any length of time again.

Collapsed in their positions, naked and huffing, they stayed their all night entwined in each other's loving embrace until the sound of the trunk thudding the table and the metal breakfast tray quietly clattering stirred Lexa's sleep.

Eyes snapping open, body lurching forward, the commander stared at the young equery who stood sheepishly peering at the ground. She was perhaps seventeen, maybe eighteen, definitely an Azgeda girl and from the impressive markings on her arms and cheeks probably a chief's niece or daughter too.

"I told you not to disturb me." Lexa grasped at the blankets.

"The chief equerry told me-"

"Your Heda told you otherwise!"

"Heda, I won't say anything... I saw nothing." the girl stuttered.

"Come here." Lexa ordered quietly, rubbing her brow and clearing her eyes, entirely inconvenienced by the need to kill this girl before the depths of her affections for Clarke were reported back to Azgeda.

"I should go back to the others and send for-"

"I said come here!" Lexa gnashed and earned the obedience she sought. "What did you see?"

"Nothing."

"What did you see?" Lexa lowered her brow and dared the girl to lie again.

"I saw you and Wanheda embracing… in warm friendship." she kept her gaze trained away from their naked figures though Lexa still slipped the blankets up Clarke's back tentatively.

The memory of Costia sat with her sometimes, her smile and raven hair in particular, before, it was enough to send her marching alone into a deep corner where she could hollowly retch into the knowledge of her death. Now, though the pain was sharp, it dimmed into a manageable ache at the sight of her star flecked lover asleep and stirring beside her. Lexa would not lose another, it would be unsurvivable.

"Lex," Clarke murmured and wrapped her hand into a tensing chunk of thigh. Eyes closed, adjusting and aware of someone else in the room, she opened her eyes and flinched away. "Commander," she cleared her throat and rolled off. "I, er, thank you for looking over the trade agreements-"

"She already saw too much." Lexa growled and set her acidic resolve and stared the girl to her melting point.

"Leave us," Clarke smiled reassuringly at the young equerry and nodded to the door.

"Do not move." Lexa pulled rank.

"Go, quickly." Clarke wrapped the blankets around herself in an effort to maintain some dignity and ushered the girl to the door. "It's not a secret sometimes the commander and I enjoy each other… that's all you saw, right?"

"Yes Wanheda." the girl breathed in relief. "Nothing more."

"Good, hurry back." she squeezed the maid's shoulder.

The door closed and Lexa was already busied in pulling her clothes on, by the time Clarke turned and caught sight she was attaching the clasp of her belt and adjusting it to her shoulder. Heaving in frustration, simmering with rage, desperate and itching for an argument, Lexa stalked around for her boots.

"Lexa-"

"How many times will you gamble with your life?" she hissed.

"She's just a girl-"

"And you would have me believe that young girls are infamous for their discretion?" she chewed and leaned over the back of the sofa, searching for the boots. "She's a threat that must be eliminated."

"You wouldn't." Clarke dared her, hands on hips.

"Watch me."

At that Clarke reached for the short blade kept on the table and cocked her shoulder back, assured in her aim, the glimmer of metal flew through the air and stuck the wall beside Lexa's shoulder. It was a warning, one that was successful in halting Lexa into a blinking seething rage. 

"Did you just..." she closed her eyes and felt the silent torrent of boiling anger wash through her veins. "One of these days I will throw one back and you can be certain that I won't miss!"

"You wouldn't." Clarke emphasised sternly.

"You're right but the thought of it is all that stops me killing you myself sometimes!" she snapped.

"I won't let you kill her Lexa."

"The thought of finding you the way I found-" Lexa steadied herself against the side table, heaving for a breath, swallowing back the particular acid that dripped her insides. "They sent her back to me in parts."

"I know." Clarke whispered softly and stepped towards her with blankets dragging beneath her feet.

"I wouldn't survive it again." Lexa told her earnestly.

"I know."

"What would you have me do?"

"Trust that the world is changing. Trust that I'm probably the last person Roan wants dead. Let me love you. Be happy with me. The list goes on…" Clarke slipped her arms around the commander's waist and held her as if it was her singular purpose.

Lexa appraised each bit of the list as hands dallied up her coat and along the ridges of her spine. Blinking, uncertain and convinced she misheard, her mouth opened and closed, settling into silence as she ran through the list again.

"What are you thinking about?" Clarke pried quietly and melted against Lexa's calloused hands at the small of her back.

"You… love me?"

"When you're not on a murderous rampage."

"I never," Lexa swallowed, "I didn't know you felt so deeply too."

"Does this mean we can go back to bed now?" Clarke tugged her hand and shuffled back towards the bed, blankets tripping her feet. Lexa followed and pretended to be unwilling but the knowledge that she was loved in turn melted in her mouth like cotton candy.

The next early scuffle was a minor one, it came after the first hunt of the season, the one Lexa promised wouldn't continue for much longer than a day or two though it soon turned into nearly a week long affair after they began tracking a wild pack of boar through the valleys and then stumbled across a herd of deer too.

Thighs sore from riding through the night, knot in her shoulder gnawing into her exhaustion, heavy footed and grimy from the week, she dismissed the advisors that followed along the hallway and entered her quarters alone. As soon as the doors clicked close behind her tall figure she found herself hunched and tugging her boots off, unclasping the heavy accoutrements of her station, freeing herself of it all bit by bit.

It was only when she moved towards her bed in hope for a few hours rest before the lunch with her nightbloods that she noticed Clarke, asleep and curled up tiny on the commander's side of the bed in nothing but one of Lexa's long sleeved tops.

"How did you even get in here?" Lexa asked in astonishment and slipped beneath the blanket and bed, shuffling behind her lover with antsy hands that missed her dearly.

"Mmm," Clarke made a small noise and wiggled her nose. "You stink." she shrugged her away.

"It masks our scent so we don't frighten the deer."

"Wait, what?" Clarke peered over her shoulder and blinked. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Lexa bit her tongue and settled on her pillow with closed eyes. "Clarke." she suddenly remembered and blinked, "How did you get in here whilst I was away?"

"I walked in?"

"You just… walked in?" Lexa furrowed her brow. "The guards didn't stop you?"

"Being Wanheda has its perks, I don't think any of them would have wanted to answer to you if I snitched." Clarke sighed and wriggled her bottom into the commander's warm hips. "I missed you, couldn't sleep while you were gone."

"I'm here now love." Lexa traced her fingers down her spine. "We can sleep for as long as you like."

"Maybe later," Clarke sat up and kicked the blankets off, stretching and clambering out of the bed towards the bath.

"Are you… but." Lexa blinked and sighed, flopping back down. "Must you be impossible?"

"I can take a bath by myself if you don't want to come?" Clarke peeped round the intricate wooden headboard and smiled softly.

"I smell that bad?"

"That bad." she nodded and disappeared again.

Lexa huffed a small concession and slipped out of the blankets, following with an urgent immediacy as the lone shirt she found Clarke in was quickly slung out into the bedroom.

"I missed you baby." Clarke hummed and grinned against the sound of hot rushing water.

"I'm not a baby." Lexa quirked her brows and slipped the shirt off her back.


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> www.diaphanousoverture.tumblr.com

Beneath a pile of blankets, buried in her lover's warm embrace, Lexa blinked her dry eyes open and yawned at the sound of her trunk and breakfast being delivered outside with a soft thud. There were adjustments to the routine now, unwelcomed by her chief equerry though she cared little of his opinion. Now, the trunk and breakfast were delivered outside her door and only when she gave word did the guards bring it into her quarters.

Clarke enjoyed the arrangement, allowed herself to slip inside the bedroom all hours of day and night without fear of Lexa's guards catching them in a compromising position. She didn't doubt for a second the guards heard their little games, the thought always made Clarke bite a little smile when she made up an excuse to see the Heda, watching them mumble and look away as she slipped inside, well aware of the things she did to their leader.

"Good morning." Lexa muttered against Clarke's breast and left a kiss there, closing her eyes again for a fleeting moment as the blankets insulated her bare skin from the morning chill.

"Mmm," Clarke wriggled her nose and wrapped her arms around her warlord. "Way too early." she mumbled.

Lexa smirked and threw the blankets off of their bodies, they settled in a pile on the stone floor at the bottom of the bed and for a moment she felt guilty for the small sad look on Clarke's face as the chill crept over her.

Lexa rolled out of the bed but Clarke's arms were quick and slung themselves around her waist, thighs hooking into her hips, pulling the Heda back into her arms and settling on top of her warm soft skin.

"Don't," Lexa tried to complain with a little huff as Clarke's nose followed the length of her neck, the shallow of her collarbone, the skin along her shoulder, all of it so gentle and purposeful.

"Can I just enjoy you?"

"You enjoyed me last night, many times." Lexa reminded her.

"One more won't hurt…" she whispered and slipped a hand between her soft thighs.

Lexa's eyes widened and a little noise escaped her. Clarke was a ruthless huntress, unrelenting and expert in all the ways that made the commander come undone, she tempted the idea of spreading her thighs, of sinking into the sensation of Clarke's touch, but there was a great many things that needed their attention.

Regretfully, sighing the whole time, she rolled their positions with the speed and strength that came with her good breeding and held Clarke's hands above her head. "No." she mouthed and held her stare for good measure, "There are things to do."

"But it's your birthday." Clarke whined and stayed still beneath the commander's grip, "I want to celebrate it."

"Why would you want to celebrate my twenty-third year?"

"We've been over this."

"Yes, and it still sounds ridiculous to me."

"You'd rather spend your birthday barely tolerating your ambassadors whilst they find more things to complain about?" Clarke pouted.

"You'll be there. You're the only ambassador whose complaints I have… a particular interest in." Lexa settled on the words with a smirk and kissed her lover. "Now, come have breakfast with me. You can teach me all about your celebration customs this evening once our ambassadors have been tended to."

"Can we at least have breakfast in bed?"

Lexa rolled her eyes and flopped backwards, forever uncomprehending of the strange traditions and customs the sky people brought down with them. If it wasn't breakfast in bed it was birthdays and spooning and Valentine's and all the other needless trivialities that had her and her people scratching their heads at  how they managed to find the time to care about so many made up concepts.

"Yes, fine, we can eat the breakfast on the bed." Lexa muttered, her growing frustrations quickly quelled with a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Stay there and close your eyes."

"No."

"Just, do it. I have a surprise…" Clarke smiled over her shoulder and shuffled across the room, wrapping a fur blanket around herself that Lexa discarded earlier.

"I don't like surprises."

"Lexa!"

"Fine." she relented.

Clarke opened the door to the commander's room and Lexa snapped her eyes open in disbelief that she would dare. Though she most certainly did, pulling the furs up around her figure to cover herself from the guard's' gaze, still yawning and dewy eyed. Lexa heard the guards pause for a moment before little uncertain greetings of her title cleared their throats, the entire time she mouthed little silent threats for Clarke to close the door and put on her clothes.

"Thanks," she nodded at the guards and accepted wrapped boxes from them. There was three or four of them in total, all piled up in her arms with the biggest one at the bottom. There was just enough room above the highest one for her to peek over and see Lexa's boiling expression.

"Oh, sorry." Clarke winced in realisation and set the gifts down on the bed. "I wasn't thinking-"

"You so rarely do." Lexa snapped.

"Easy now." she pushed the commander's knee, "these are for you."

Responsively, Lexa accepted each one of the parcels with the big one sat at her feet. It softened her and she hated that, it irritated her above all things the way Clarke was so proficient in domesticating her temper.

"What do I do with them?" Lexa asked.

"Open them." Clarke grinned and crawled up the length of bed to lie at her commander's side.

Lexa was slow, her fingers pulling at the twine carefully out of fear for ripping the paper and spoiling this strange custom. Clarke rolled her eyes and dove in to help, ripping and tearing at the package until Lexa was left with the contents in her lap.

"It's a book." Lexa smiled and began to flick through the pages, "Thank you." she kissed the corner of Clarke's mouth and studied it a little further, there were pictures drawn out in coal, all of them beautiful and intricate and so clearly born from Clarke's touch.

"Yeah, yeah," Clarke hurried the commander and closed the book for later, "Come on, the big one next." she rushed in excitement.

Lexa obliged her and grabbed the box at her feet, responsively, the box yapped back and the commander raised her brow in curiosity. Clarke watched her with a little grin behind her hands, waiting, appraising, loving every second of this anticipation.

"Clarke?" Lexa arched a brow in her direction.

"Hmm,"

"What's inside?"

"A gift."

"That isn't," Lexa paused and threw her a look. "It isn't what I meant and you know it."

"Open it and find out…"

Lexa turned back to the box, it was ordinary enough except for the small holes in each side and the warm breath that escaped them and tickled her palm. Carefully, Lexa pulled off the brown lid and slipped her hand inside.

It was small and warm and she surmised that whatever it was, it was alive from the little tongue licking her palm. Carefully, she pulled it out of the box and up to her face to appraise it further.

"It is one of your customs to exchange animals?" Lexa said after a moment, blank faced and confused, holding the whining puppy in hand like the book prior.

"You don't like her?" Clarke frowned and crept a little closer, petting the little wolf's head. "Bellamy found her out by Alexandria and the minute I saw her she reminded me of you."

Lexa turned back and looked at the wolf a little closer, she was a deep charcoal grey with dark speckled inside the corners of her eyes and most definitely the runt of the litter, probably diseased and beastly and wild too. Lexa couldn't help but take a small amount of offence to the comparison.

The puppy squirmed out of her hands with a wagging tail to sit on hind paws that were too big for her body, more than satisfied to lick the commander's hand and nibble her fingers.

"Do you guys not have dogs and stuff? I thought that was an Earth thing…" Clarke scratched her head at the long pause.

"They're predators, the same as any other." Lexa shrugged, staring at the little ball of fluff that licked and panted against her hand. "She's very small, isn't she?" she cracked a little smile.

"If you don't like her I can take her back." Clarke shrugged and leaned to scoop her out of Lexa's lap but tentatively, Lexa wrapped a hand around Clarke's wrist and stilled her efforts.

"Do I… should I name her?"

"We're keeping the puppy?" Clarke blinked in surprise.

"What should I call her?"

"I've just been calling her wolf."

"Well, it's certainly apt." Lexa settled and ran a hand over her grey mane, "Wolf." she agreed with a nod.

The dog licked her hand and Lexa weakened at the sight of it, she was eager and good tempered and quickly growing on the commander. It took a moment for to realise Clarke was speaking, she hid her lack of attention well, nodded along at every pause for breath and pretended she heard everything said.

"So is that a yes?"

"Hmm?" Lexa finally glanced up, opening her mouth and closing it again. "Yes, of course." she agreed mindlessly.

Clarke grinned and pulled the blankets back onto the bed, sighing and pleased, plumping her pillow and setting the birthday gifts onto the ground. It dawned quickly that Clarke no doubt sought an extra hour in bed and though she wanted to protest, warm hands slipped across her stomach and the puppy settled between them both and she was helpless to refuse.

"She is not to sleep in our bed." Lexa warned and watched Clarke press little kisses to its grey muzzle.

"Whatever you say, Heda." Clarke hummed and snuggled closer.

The next disagreement was Clarke's birthday and Lexa made no pretense of attempting to win. The knowledge of the Ark's customs and punishments seeped to her like poison through the whispers of ambassadors who heard stories on their travels, how the sky people banished their children into the darkness where stars feared to tread, how they would be plucked from their prisons on the dawn of adulthood and culled. 

It was a highborn warrior from the furthest southern reaches who told her of Wanheda's origins, a story he heard from a skygirl who married his brother. Lexa remembered little of it, the words rendered the oxygen in her lungs useless in the violent truths of Clarke's blood-forged past. Though she remembered small details, that Clarke was dragged from her prison on the dawn of her eighteenth year to face the coldness of the stars and somehow survived the plummet to the ground. It was tall tales, stories forged from too much ale, Lexa was sure of that… and yet somehow she couldn't stop herself wondering who Clarke was before she owned her first kill.

Her nineteenth birthday, the commander let her sleep until noon.

Her twentieth, she kept her awake with an eager mouth until dawn.

It was her twentieth year that they all but gave up on the pretense of their friendship. Long simmering looks shared during ambassador meetings and private counsel sought in the late hours of night were no longer gossiped of, instead they were encouraged by their united people, a people who sought marriage as a permanent truce.

Yet still the commander was unbending in the face of these new possibilities. Consumed by her breeding and duty, too staunch to believe such sentiments were attainable for leaders of their station.

It was the morning of her fifth ascension day when Clarke finally blurted it out. The wellwishers gathered at the foot of the tower like autumn pine needles packed together on the cusp of a branch, their numbers so vast and far Clarke couldn't see the end of the forest they formed from her position by the balcony door. The cacophony of noise that emanated from the crowds was beautiful, they sung songs of their beloved Heda, the one to finally bring peace to the world. It left Clarke awestricken and quiet.

"They sing of you too." Lexa snuck behind her, arms slipping along her waist eagerly. "They say I am all that I am, because my heart was touched by starlight." she grinned, dragging her mouth eagerly over the ridge of Clarke's shoulder.

Clarke turned in the commander's embrace, saw the majesty of her burdens and strengths and failures and heart and… she couldn't breathe for all of it. There were not words. There was just a visceral need to be at the core of every tiny part of her life. Clarke slipped her hands up Lexa's ribs, the skin was still damp and fresh from bathing and she tempered a pearl eyed smile that her warlord belonged only to her in these moments.

"Clarke?" Lexa whispered. "If you don't want to go,"

"Marry me?"

"To the celebrations later on. Wait, what?" Lexa halted in surprise, doubting herself entirely. "What did you say?"

"I said..." Clarke cupped her hands around the shocked expression. "Marry me."

"Clarke?" Lexa puzzled again.

"Marry me." she demanded with an assured nod, squeezing the jawline in her fingers. "Shut up and marry me."


	3. Bonus: Chapter III

"We can't." Lexa whispered and stared intently at the determination worked into every bit of Clarke's face, felt her heart punch faster for it like a beast headbutting its cage. "To be Heda is to be alone, you know that." she said, regretful and certain. 

"I will never stop asking you." Clarke told her and meant every word, eyes watering and dying. "I feel like I'm your wife." she nearly snorted in disbelief and wiped an embarrassed tear. 

"In this room, you are." Lexa vowed with the stern assurance reserved for the throne room. "In this room I am your wife but out there I must be... more." 

"It isn't enough." Clarke wanted to die in the knowledge of it. "I love you Lexa. Just you, only you, and I want to love you until you're tired and old and... and." Clarke inhaled and closed her eyes, mouth curling into a determined smile. "I see us. I see us so vividly. I see you ghosting around our house, fixing things and telling our grandchildren stories about when we saved the world and it's all I dream for us. All of this?" she blinked and threw violent hands at their quarters, "No throne could ever be big enough if it means not having you." 

"It has to be." Lexa took her into the confines of her arms and knew with absolute truth that this was their fate. "In another life you would have been my only duty... but I belong to my people." 

"I will never stop asking, Lexa." Clarke murmured against the soft material of her undershirt. 

Lexa nodded, felt a violent acid in her throat in the knowledge of what she could have if only she were more reckless. But she wasn't, and as much as she wanted to give Clarke a throne, there would always be usurpers and uprisings and threats of war on the horizon. She would not lose another. 

"And it will never stop breaking my heart to refuse you." she promised tenderly and buried her nose into golden aureate tendrils of hair that always smelled foreign and starkissed. 

For longer than Lexa liked, there were no early morning fights anymore, not after her sixth refusal of marriage at least. There was a routine to their lives. In the mornings, Clarke awoke first and slipped out of bed, took Wolf for a stroll through the markets and fed her whatever scraps were cheap and available. Lexa would wake, assume the accoutrements of her station, tighten her shoulder armour, fix her hair with the help of handmaids and assume her duties. 

The nights were the same. Clarke looked for things to busy herself with, often found reasons to return to her people for long stretches, but the time spent together in their quarters was a rehearsed performance. Lexa would stretch out long on the sofa with a book she cared little for, boots kicked off and Wolf protectively at her side, panting and licking the back of her hand. Clarke would sprawl out on the bed and doodle with charcoal and parchment. Occasionally they'd talk about more than the day's events, rarely they would laugh and stray from the script, Lexa cherished those moments. 

The first real argument was welcomed and yearned for. It came during the midsts of the harshest winter Lexa could remember, the lack of body heat beside her was what woke her in the end. It was still dark outside, their breath caught in the air by leylines of moonlight that snuck through the curtains whilst Clarke slipped on her boots with Wolf prowling around her feet. 

"What are you doing?" Lexa murmured and rolled on her back, closing her eyes and clinging to the blankets. 

"Taking the dog for a walk before sunrise." 

"Don't." Lexa winced into the chill and sat up, "You know how much I detest you walking around without attendants. In the middle of darkness no less?" she chewed and wiped the sleep from her eyes. 

"Who exactly is going to attack me with a hungry wolf at my side?" 

"Come back to bed."

"She's hungry.” Clarke challenged with crossed arms. 

"And I'm tired." Lexa told her with a flexing jaw, "Come to bed." the commander urged and lifted the blankets. 

Lexa violently disliked the way Clarke rolled her eyes at her. It had grown more frequent over the last weeks, it came with an ease that bothered the commander, a frequency that left her biting her tongue. Like a natural disaster, a monsoon sweeping out the shore, the rolling blue eyes that caught drips of moonlight was enough to send Lexa mad with a quiet brewing rage. 

"I'll be an hour, tops." Clarke brushed her girlfriend off. "If it bothers you so much come with us?" she said earnestly, offering an olive branch. 

"No." Lexa bit and instantly regretted it. 

She rolled on her side, plumping and grabbing a fistful of pillow that was entirely useless in its purpose now. The bed was too big, too empty, too thick with nothingness without Clarke. Lexa felt as if she were drowning in it until the door quietly clicked shut and Wolf's eager barks yapped into the distance of the hallway. 

She laid there like that, awake and raging, until the rage dulled into quiet regret, the regret melting into sorrow with the crack of sunrise. She knew she should be gentler, try harder, be softer, do better. All easier said than done when the weight nations shackled your ankles. 

 The routine stirred into motion, the trunk was appraised and sent away, breakfast was mostly left, her hair painfully tugged into intricate braids by novice hands whilst she fastened her coat and armour for tedious meetings. Today it was the north here to discuss new access routes that would no doubt bore Clarke to the shores of Hell too. She took a small comfort in that, they would suffer it together. 

Lexa marched purposefully into the throne room, dark coat flowing behind her like a flash of her mood. The seated rose and nodded, her attendants finding their places by the doors and steps, regal and anointed in her station, Lexa gloated in this power shamelessly. 

"Sit." she commanded the room and took to her throne. "Our friends in the north have joined us today-" 

"Heda!" 

Lexa's eyes snapped forward to the door as her chief steward rushed the floor. He was panting, bent over and pink- cheeked, gasping for air that the steep staircases couldn't afford him. There was blood on his cloaks, deep red roses of it that blossomed and smeared his pale servant dressings into a story that took precedence over counsel. 

"Speak true." Lexa demanded, out of her throne already, eyes snapping to the prisoner dragged through the door. He was torn till the flesh hung off him in grotesque clumps, what left of his hands bound with rope. Wolf followed after the small procession, limping on the weight of her hind legs and proud of her catch. 

"Wanheda is missing." 

"What?" Lexa snapped, frantic beneath the dire. 

"She was taken this morning whilst walking, we're not sure how many, but the wolf killed two and had her teeth set in this one by the time we came across them." the steward kicked the prisoner forward until he kneeled at the commander's boots. 

He proclaimed innocence until Lexa took his ear with one slice of her blade, threw it to her hungry wolf as a prize and took pride in the shocked gasps of those who now watched the interrogation. 

"You will miss each appendage I cut from your body significantly more than the last the longer you waste my time." she snarled and set to work. 

It took five minutes, which translated into two fingers and a striploin of cheek before she could finally set off into the western valleys with the best hunters and riders the north had to spare. 

There were brief trails of blood leading into the neck of the woods over stale dusty snow, the blood came in smears, too sparing and far away in distance from one another to be anything more than superficial but Lexa promised herself for every smear of blood she raced past, the prison cells would be painted with a stroke of theirs. 

The ride was long, never more than an hour behind in their hunt, never close enough to see a glimpse of her beloved alive and well. Her thighs were sore from riding and her patience frayed into a single strand by the time they reached the swollen gorge where the tracks finally washed out. 

She heard the chatter of the men. It dulled into a silence whenever she shortened the proximity and allowed them to catch up to her pace. Now, she was rooted at the water's edge with the entirety of her hunt party converging around her for their next instruction. 

Still in thought, searching the woods across the gorge, she snapped her gaze back and forth but all she saw was trees and trees and trees endlessly lining the water edge. 

"They were probably after a northern highborn girl never mind the commander's whore." 

Lexa's eyes snapped into focus at the northern rider who chuckled at the back of the pack, the words thrashed against her already vicious rage and confounded and solidified it into an entity of its own that Lexa couldn't control. It was a slip of the tongue, thoughtless and responsive, much like the slip of her hand that buried a short blade into his ribcage. 

"Anyone else?" Lexa snarled against the sound of his body thumping the ground. "Good." Lexa said at their silence and steered the gelding's reins back towards the gorge. 

There was a whisper in the back of her head. It was always there, always quietly muttering one thing or another, for the most part she listened, for the intimacies shared with Clarke in their quarters she instead cursed the flame and ignored the other commanders who incessantly conflicted with one another, trapped in a world that was itself trapped in her mind. 

The whispers were instinctual urges for the most part but in this moment they were pictures. One in particular, the image of a broken blue watch Clarke was never without. 

"Clever girl." Lexa muttered to herself with a hopeful smirk. "All of you, turn your eyes to the shoreline and look for a small glint in the trees." she ordered, the words too fast on her tongue. It quickly provided the necessary distraction from the dimming gasps of the felled one amongst their group. 

The glinting watch was found as the winter sunlight emerged from a blanket of cloud and caught the glass face fastened to a pine branch. Thumping and not fast enough for her liking, she lead them through the cold muddy thickets deep into the heart of the woods, snatching the watch as she passed and holding it in her blistered hand. 

The revving of engines scared away a flock of birds hidden in the ceiling of the woods. It was dull at first, just a whirring noise in the distance that grew more encouraging the louder it became. Gunshots followed next, a sound that was relegated to be nothing more than a scathing reminder of the Mountain Men suddenly became the most welcomed sound above all things to Lexa's ears.  

There was a commotion of people, sky and ground alike, moving between one another in a hurry. Bellamy and Marcus carried a dirtied creature that was too slight and limp to be her Clarke, but sure enough, the thickest caked mud that covered her entire being was not enough to wash out the golden aureate shine of her hair. 

It took everything not to retch and empty her stomach between her feet as her boots hit the sloshing ground. 

"She's hurt but alive." Marcus assured her quietly and grabbed her shoulders, a discrete kindness to stop her collapsing in front of her men as she stumbled towards where they loaded Clarke into a truck. 

Lexa recovered quickly, forced it out of duty to the highest station that was her burden. She swallowed first, ridded herself of the spittle that came with thoughts of Clarke hurt, shoulders squared and chin raised she nodded some acknowledgement that Marcus was heard. 

"I came as fast as I could." Lexa said. It was the closest thing to an apology she could be seen to give. "She asked me if I wanted to walk with her and.” she sharply exhaled, steadied a hand against the truck once again and decided some things were better left unsaid. "Will she be okay?" 

"She has a nasty cut and a bump to the head but nothing the medical bay can’t handle." Marcus promised. 

Lexa nodded and closed her eyes, grateful and simmering in her resentment that these attempts were levelled at them. "The men responsible for this?" 

"Alive, barely." 

"Good." Lexa said solemnly. She glanced at the stretchers their bodies were carried on, wanted to tell the men who shouldered the weight to tip them out and tie them to the back of her horses. That would come later though, once she appraised her lover and decided for herself she was okay. 

"Where's Lexa?" a voice croaked in determination. 

Dour and reserved, Lexa knew she should depart with her goodbyes and make arrangements back to Polis. But the sound of her name on Clarke's split lips was like the warmth of fire against cracked hands in the bitter chill of winter, wanted and soothing and necessary. 

Clarke was hurt, blood in her teeth and bruises in bloom around her eye. There was a cut on her belly too, a deep gash she wouldn’t let the healers fuss with as she began to come around. 

“Wanheda,” Lexa cleared her throat, relieved and pearl-eyed as she climbed the back of the truck. “I’m glad to see death still obeys your command.” 

“You came?” Clarke pulled her by the hand and pressed her cheek into it. 

“I came.” Lexa whispered and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “I found this.” she showed her the blue watch strap in her fist. 

“I knew you would.” Clarke promised her girlfriend. 

“I came as quickly as I could.” Lexa said her words fast, “The guilt of our fight sat with me and when I heard...” she wanted to cry, but didn’t. “I’m sorry.” she mouthed. 

“You came as quick as you could.” Clarke repeated with a relieved smile, kissing the inside of her commander’s shaking hand. “I knew you would find me.” 

Lexa nodded at that, glanced awkwardly at the healers who worked around them and kept herself manacled because of it. “You are my dearest possession.” she whispered and softly pressed her thumb against a sparse bit of cheek free of mud, “I would have never let them take you.” 

“Is Wolf okay?” Clarke blurted in realisation and tried to sit up. 

Lexa caught her, gently halted her efforts and laid her back down with soothing little noises that were unbecoming of her resolve. The rain and sweat dripped down her face like tears, the closest thing she would allow to it. 

“She is sore and alive, belly full too if what’s left of your attackers is anything to go by.” she forced a little smile. 

At that Clarke nodded in relief, “Leave us.” she ordered the healers and flopped back down. 

“No,” Lexa said quickly and grabbed one by the arm as he set down the ointment and bandages in his hands. “Tend to her, see to the wounds and make sure she is well. You answer to me to now.” she levelled the blackest brunt of her stare and there was no need to warn of what would come if she was disobeyed. 

Obediently, the healers resumed their duties and Clarke relented with an annoyed huff. The ointment stung, earned a long hiss every time it was pressed into the nick on her brow and gash on her stomach. “I guess you’ll be returning to Polis now I’m alive?” she rolled her eyes and smiled. 

It infuriated Lexa. Boiled and stirred and bubbled her until she couldn’t breathe for it. It was different this time, her stomach turned itself inside out at the mere thought of never seeing another eye roll again, of never waking up to those warm hands domesticating her, of forcing her wavering hands to burn Clarke to ash under the gaze of her people. 

“What can I do?” Lexa said after a moment to the chief healer, swallowing and sitting beside Clarke’s prone figure. 

“Heda?” he blinked. 

“How can I help?” 

“Oh,” he realised, “Well, er, you could keep her still. That would help.” 

“Then that’s what I’ll do.” she turned and whispered to her lover. “Rest and let them work.” she softly ordered Clarke, brushing hair out of her face. 

 

 ...

 

Clarke awoke with a gasp. She was bound by her wrists, dragged behind the back of a horse. Then she was slipping and pulled through the sludge and icy mud of the wintered ground. There was gunshots and Bellamy was there, carrying her towards a crowd of familiar faces. Lexa, then there was Lexa, sweet and dour and reserved and trying in the back of the truck. 

It came back to Clarke with an urgent immediacy as she blinked and focused her eyes against the blinding whiteness of the medical bay. Her body finally stirred and she reclaimed dexterity in her hands, slipping them along the skin of her forearms and tugging at the canula there. 

“Please don’t do that,” Lexa warned and cupped her hands around her own. She was exhausted, her fine clothes and the accoutrements of her station replaced with a grey overshirt and jeans, same as what most of the other sky people wore. “They’ve replaced it four times and I don’t know if I have the energy to hold you down for a fifth. So please, for me, stay in the bed.” she told Clarke earnestly. 

“You came?”

“I always will.” Lexa nodded and swallowed. 

“We were in the truck and, and, why can’t I remember anything after that?” Clarke groaned and closed her eyes, flopping back into the pillow. 

“You’ve been asleep for a few days... they gave you something to help you sleep and then there was a small infection and your fever didn’t break until last night.” Lexa explained the most crucial bits of the last few days to her confused girlfriend. 

She skipped over the worst parts, the hours spent mopping her sweat ridden brow, the occasional lucid outbursts of Clarke ripping out wires and throwing fists at whoever was closest to her, unfortunately usually Lexa herself. Then there was the bandage changes, sitting there expressionless, reserved, manacled, wanting nothing more than to retch at the sight of the swollen infected wound across her abdomen whilst the healers did their best to fix it. 

“You came back everyday?” Clarke furrowed her brows and swallowed away the inactivity of her throat. 

“I never left.” 

At that Clarke snapped her head and stared at her girlfriend. “What about Polis?” she mumbled. 

“It means nothing if you are not by my side, Clarke.” 

“You’re the commander.” 

“No, we are.” Lexa swallowed and wiped away a small tear. “I am all that I am, because my heart was touched by starlight. I cannot rule without you. I won’t.” she promised, alight and determined in all the ways she tried desperately not to be. 

“I love you.” Clarke promised softly and soothed the unfamiliar ache in Lexa’s heart with her words, certain in the knowledge that her brooding warlord was at a loss with what to do with it all. “Come here, come lie down with me.” she moved aside and made some space. 

“Your mother made it quite clear-“ 

“I know she has a way with words but I’m the only Griffin you should be scared of. Now, get in the bed and let me hold my Heda. I missed her.” 

“You were asleep.” Lexa sighed and shook her head, though she quickly obeyed and kicked off her boots. The jeans itched, she wanted to kick those off too but she still clung on to some decorum. 

The bed was uncomfortable and small, nothing like their usual quarters but Clarke still fitted perfectly into the nook of arm she loved, her hands still slipped across the commander’s waist the way they always did. 

There was a series of small kisses, as if Lexa was reacquainting herself with the terrain of her girlfriend. Clarke enjoyed all of it, the way Lexa’s mouth ghosted over her cheek, claiming and testing her jaw and neck tentatively until finally they settled against Clarke’s lips and stayed there for minutes, and Lexa could finally breathe again after all of it. 

Clarke clung to her as if Lexa was the only thing that made sense, as if she was the only solid crystalline thing in a world made up of thin air. Nose digging through dark tendrils of intricately braided hair and hands venturing further up her warlord’s shirt, she finally settled and stayed still of her own volition. 

“Yes.” Lexa whispered and closed her eyes. Clarke watched her run a hand down her thigh, finally settling it at her knee with a smile worked into her cheeks. 

“What?”

“I’ll be your wife.” Lexa yawned. 

Clarke blinked and watched her girlfriend lie there unmoving, too nonchalant about these things, too relaxed. On any given morning she would find a reason to fight about it and immerse herself entirely in the effort. 

But Clarke yawned instead and closed her eyes too, the bridge of her nose grazing against her warlord’s. “Good.” she whispered. 

Because some early mornings were too precious for fights. 

 

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	4. Update!

Hey guys,

Thank you so much for the love you showed this story, just a heads up to let you know there is a sequel called The Wedding: A Collection. You can find the sequel by clicking on part two of Early Mornings Series above.

Thank you for the love and support!

Diaph,


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